


A Most Unusual Thing

by Artemis_Day



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5 +1 things, F/M, Matchmaking, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/Artemis_Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Steve Rogers and Darcy Lewis almost became a couple, and one time they did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Most Unusual Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I've got an idea! How about a Steve/Darcy fic. I haven't written one of those in ages.
> 
> And I should make it a 5+1. That would be even better. Those are a ton of fun. I bet I'll have this finished by the end of the day.
> 
> ONE MONTH LATER: We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Artemis Day, who died of acute fanfic writing trouble complicated by Writer's Block. She will be missed.

The first time, it was because Jane needed a carton of milk.

Normally, Darcy would balk at such a request.  She was a scientific intern, dammit, not an errand girl.

Of course, once Darcy brought that up, Jane immediately pulled the ‘Political science’ card, which  in turn meant that Darcy had to pull the ‘Political science is _so_ a real science’ card, and that was a battle that never had a winner.  In the end, Darcy was in the car heading for the supermarket, and she and Jane probably wouldn’t talk for the rest of the day, but at least she could stretch her legs and stock up on chips and waffles.  If there was one thing Darcy knew, it was how to make the best of things.

The nearest store was an old Mom ‘n Pop kind of place that miraculously stayed in business even with the Walbaum’s on one side of town and Target on the other.  The inside of it reminded Darcy of a Trader Joe’s, but without the organic farm stand food.  Most of the items for sale, from what she could see, were of the ‘early death from a heart attack’ variety.  The dairy section was a cramped refrigerated area near the back, and it only carried vanilla flavored yogurt.  It had a decent selection of milk, though, ranging from two percent to skim.  Darcy grabbed a quart of skim that had a good date on it, and thought about making a quick trip down the chip aisle for some sour cream and onion.  She hadn’t had a bag if sour cream and onion chips in months. 

Depositing the milk in her basket, Darcy turned right around-

-and ran smack into someone’s chest.

“Woah!” Darcy staggered backwards.  She would’ve fallen over, except the wall was an inch away from her back. 

The man she had hit was very tall, about six feet from head to toe.  His hair was blonde and his eyes were blue, a very All-American style attractive.  Running into him had been like punching a brick wall, and it was easy to see why.  The guy was all muscle from his beefy biceps to his rippling pectorals.  How she’d survived slamming into the latter, Darcy would never know.  From the look of him, she should have at least knocked out a tooth.

As Darcy marveled at this, it occurred to her that the man before her just so happened to be Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America. 

And then, it also occurred to her that she had been staring at him for close to a minute without saying anything.

“Oh!”  Darcy straightened her spine like an army recruit.  “Uh… I mean, hi there.  I uh… I am very sorry that I ran into you, Mr. Rogers…”

God, was it weird calling him that.  Now she was imagining him in a red sweater singing ‘It’s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood’ to a train set.  And that wasn’t the ultra-ridiculous mental image it should have been, because Darcy was pretty sure Steve would look like a god in one of those sweaters.  

Just her dumb old luck that she’d run into the man she’d been crushing on for months in a place like this.

“It’s okay, Ms. Lewis,” he said.  “Could’ve happened to anyone.”

 _‘Yeah, but it happened to me,’_ Darcy thought. 

“I was just picking up milk for Jane,” she said, even though logic dictated that she should excuse herself fast and then run like the wind before she embarrassed herself again.  “She can never go shopping on her own.  That’s scientists for you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve said, “but I do know how my friends are.  Bucky asked me to get some milk, too.”

Darcy blinked, absently stepping aside so that Steve could reach for a gallon of one percent.

“He can’t get his own milk?” she asked.

“He said he’d be busy all day and couldn’t get it himself.  I’m just doing him a favor.”

“Then you are an excellent friend.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Darcy laughed, and he laughed.  They were laughing together, and as Darcy realized this, she lost her voice.  She stood frozen on the spot, the metal handles of the basket close to snapping in her tight grip.

“Well, I’d better get moving,” she said, backing up.  “Busy day ahead.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve said, as if suddenly in a daze. 

Darcy took two more steps back until the dairy section was out of sight, and then she ran for the checkout corner, bypassing the sour cream and onion chips entirely.

**

The second time, it was a week after Jane and Darcy moved into the tower.

Steve hadn’t known that Darcy was coming until he spotted her directing one of the moving people.  They had been pushing carts filled with the good doctor’s equipment back and forth for at least an hour.  Steve and Bucky had passed one of them on their way to the gym, and they were still working an hour later when they returned.  It looked like they would never be finished, and every load was bigger than the last.  Whatever went into creating this bridge Tony told him about, it was clear that Dr. Foster was profoundly dedicated.

“Think we should offer to help?” Steve asked.  There was a skinny man struggling with a cart stacked high with computer modules and what appeared to be a dismantled weather balloon. 

Bucky shrugged and walked over.  He gripped the bar with his metal arm, pushing it easily the rest of the way to the lab.  The worker appeared torn between grateful for the help and nervous in the face of a former assassin, now Avenger.  If Bucky noticed, he gave no indication.  Dr. Foster appeared around the corner just as he was leaving the cart to be unloaded, and he instantly brightened.

“Hello, Doctor,” he said, flashing a smile that Steve remembered him using countless times before the war to charm the pants off a pretty girl.

“Hello, Sergeant,” Dr. Foster answered.  “Nice to see you again.”

“I hope you’ve been doing okay.”

“Yeah, I’m good.  Glad that moving is almost over and I can get back to work.”

The two of them maintained eye contact even though conversation tapered off there.  It took longer than what was appropriate for Dr. Foster to glance away and notice Steve.

“Oh, hey there,” she said, giving him a wave.  “Good to see you, Captain Rogers.”

“Just Steve is fine.”  He shook her hand.  “Looks like you have a lot of unpacking left to do, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Dr. Foster sagged.  “You think that’s bad, imagine trying to do all that plus coordinating a whole team of scientists and technicians who’ve been hired to work with you when you haven’t even met any of them yet.   I swear, I appreciate Tony’s help, but I wish he would’ve let me have at least some say before he went and made all the choices by himself.”

“Well, you know Tony,” Steve said.  “He likes to do everything by himself.”

“I’m still giving him an earful later.”

“Sounds like you could use a break,” Bucky said, stepping forward.  “If I were you, I’d get to bed extra early tonight.”

“If you were me?”  Dr. Foster asked cheekily.  “When you put it that way, maybe I will.”

Bucky grinned, and Dr. Foster grinned back before turning over her shoulder and shouting.

“Darcy!  Come on out, we have visitors.”

“Oh, you don’t have to call her,” Steve said, hoping to keep the stammer out of his voice. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Darcy, quite the contrary.  He’d been seeing her a lot these past few months.  Usually it was in a daydream or on one of the many pages in his sketchbook.  He’d only seen her in person a handful of times, the last of which took place in a grocery store she just happened to be shopping in at the same time he was. 

He couldn’t see her now.  He wasn’t prepared for it.  Bucky could go off on him all he wanted later for chickening out, but he had better make an excuse of some kind and get out of here before-

“Jane, you’d better come in here!”

Dr. Foster wasted no time.  She followed Darcy’s voice into the lab, Bucky right behind her, dragging Steve with him.

He just had to use the metal arm, too.  The jerk.

“Come on, punk, quit dragging your feet,” he said.

“Don’t we have somewhere we need to be-“

“No.”

The three of them entered the lab—two walking, one shuffling—and came upon a very… interesting scene.

Darcy was tinkering with a computer module.  It was old and clunky—as far as Steve’s still improving knowledge of modern technology went—covered in bolts and wires with a radar screen that was currently dark.  It was to Steve’s understanding that Dr. Foster had built much of her own equipment before receiving Stark Industries funding and a Nobel Prize, and even now, she had yet to stray away from her roots. 

What made it so singular a sight wasn’t so much the machine or its journey from a backwater desert town, but rather that Darcy’s examination of it took place over a ten foot drop to the floor.  An inch separated Darcy from that fall, her foot precariously placed just barely over the edge.

While Steve silently gaped and Bucky moved forward with his arms half out, Dr. Foster voiced what was on all their minds.

“Darcy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She barely glanced over her shoulder at them, too involved in her task—whatever that was—to listen.

“I think something got knocked loose on this thing.  Whoever loaded it up here wasn’t even paying attention.  Remind me to tell Stark to dock their pay.”

“You couldn’t wait for them to unload the cart to do this?”

“Oh please, like you would have waited.”  Darcy bent over to look at a side panel, and her foot slid a little further out.  “Besides, I spent every summer from junior high to college rock climbing in the mountains with my uncle.  I think I know what I’m doing.”

Her foot slipped.

Or maybe it didn’t.

It was hard to tell exactly what happened when it all went so fast.  Even with his enhanced senses, Steve couldn’t be sure if Darcy slipped or she stepped on something or even if a gust of wind pushed her, but she was falling in the next second all the same.  Dr. Foster screamed.  Bucky ran, but Steve ran faster.  He made it just in time.  Darcy landed in his arms; he barely felt the impact.  She acted on impulse, throwing her arms around his neck to keep herself upright.  It brought their faces together, so close that Steve could see every tiny freckle dotted on her cheeks, and every curve of her lips as she parted them slightly. 

“Ah…” she stared at him, and then her eyes flicked upward.  “I guess it’s not exactly the same as rock climbing.”

As Steve’s heart ceased racing, he was able to smile back at her.  For someone who had just avoided a lot of broken bones at best, she was keeping her sense of humor quite well.  He wondered what it would take for her to lose it, but then he banished the thought.  He really didn’t want to find out.

An awkward cough had them both looking up.  Dr. Foster and Bucky were watching them, wearing identical looks of someone trying not to smile.

“Do you two want to be alone?” Bucky asked.

 _‘Yes,’_ Steve’s mind said.

“No,” his mouth said, and he let Darcy drop to her feet. 

If he didn’t know better, he’d say she looked disappointed, but that was probably just wishful thinking.

**

The third time, Steve did find out what would make Darcy lose her sense of humor.

Because try as she might, and boy did she try (it’s a defense mechanism, you see), Darcy couldn’t find a single funny thing about getting a gun shoved into her back and forced in a van.  Nor could she joke about getting to the kidnapper’s Super Secret Hideaway Place and discovering that this was, in fact, a HYDRA cell.

In the absence of humor, Darcy had cursing, empty threats of tasering all their asses into next year, and more cursing.

“You assholes are lucky you got my taser before I could get to you,” she shouted through the bars of the cell they’d thrown her in.  The thing was barely six by six and smelled like rotting garbage.  Clearly, HYDRA’s funding was a little tight now that SHIELD was in the toilet.  “Because if I had it right now, oooooh baby, you’d be in trouble.  I would fuck you all up so bad-“

The nearest guard slammed his firearm into the bars, the sound ringing in Darcy’s ears long after the vibrations stopped.  Just like that, the flame of her rage was snuffed out, and she shrunk back into the corner, giving in at last to fear.

“Just keep your fat trap shut,” the HYDRA guy said, “and maybe you’ll make it out of here.”

It should really go without saying, but Darcy did not like the sound of that ‘maybe’.

“What do you even want with me?”  Her voice broke, and she squeaked like a door with a rusty hinge.  “I-I’m just an intern.  I get people coffee and I file papers.  I’m not a scientist or a superhero or even a love interest.  I’m nobody.”

“You really think we don’t know that?” the guard snapped, grinding his teeth in frustration.  “It was supposed to be the other one, not you.  The physicist.”

Jane?  They wanted Jane? 

That made more sense.

But no!  No, that was bad.  That was very bad.

Maybe it was a good thing that Jane had to last minute cancel their day at the skating rink.

“Yeah, well, you’ll have an even harder time getting to her,” Darcy shouted at the guard’s retreating form.  “She’s back at the tower right now with all the superheroes, and she used to date a god, and she’s best friends with Iron Man and the Hulk, and I’m pretty sure she’s started seeing-“

The door burst open, and gunfire blazed.  It came mostly from the HYDRA guys, as Darcy’s saviors seemed to favor a combination of arrows, repulsor blasts, and most tellingly, a red, white, and blue shield.

Said shield sailed through the air right into the face of Darcy’s guard friend.  She couldn’t resist a cheer as he went flying into the wall with a crack.  The bright, glowing eyes of Iron Man approached her, and Darcy stood back to allow him to rip the cell door off.  The mask came up to reveal Tony Stark’s smirking face.

“You doing okay, Lewis?”

“I’ll be better once I’ve had a shower or three,” Darcy said, “but otherwise yeah, I’m good.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying, I’m with you on that shower thing.”  Tony waved a hand in his face to remove the rancid stench, and when that didn’t work, he replaced the mask.

“Yeah yeah, just get me out of here.”

“The basement’s secure,” said Hawkeye as he appeared out of the shadows.  He had an arrow notched in his bow just in case.  “Cap is taking care of the rest.”

“You should really thank him for saving you,” Tony said as Hawkeye guided Darcy out of the cell.

“I think I should thank all three of you.”

“He means that Steve is the one who staged this whole rescue mission,” Hawkeye said.  “He was in the area, and he saw them pull you into the van.  He took care of the guys they left behind and then called us.”

Darcy blinked.  “Really?”

Steve stepped into the light much as Hawkeye had done, casting a discerning eye around the perimeter just in case anyone else was skulking around.  He would find himself a bit distracted as Darcy wrapped herself around his awesome body in the biggest hug she could manage.

“I’m told I owe you a debt of gratitude,” she said.  “So here’s how I say thank you.”

She reached up to plant a wet kiss on Steve’s cheek, lingering just for a moment because wow, his skin was so soft and smooth.  The whole ‘like a baby’s butt’ thing was a huge cliché, but this situation warranted it.

“Oh, uh…” Steve looked away as Darcy let go.  Strong, handsome, _and_ humble.  Steve Rogers was all kinds of perfect Darcy couldn’t begin to count.  “I was just in the neighborhood.  Bucky left me again when we were supposed to get some lunch.  I swear, I don’t know what he’s up to these days…”

While Steve continued to ramble adorably, Darcy caught sight of movement just over his broad shoulder.  She discounted it at first, until the second time, and then the third time.

And then the guard was back on his feet, his enraged face bloody as he raised a knife high in the air.

Darcy started to scream… and Steve whipped around to nail the guy one more time in the face. 

He went down, for good this time.  Steve watched him just to be sure, and then dropped the shield to his side, satisfied that they were now in the clear.  He met Darcy’s expectant gaze long enough for her to notice him closing off.

“We’ll get you home just as soon as Tony finishes sweeping the premises.  Shouldn’t be more than five minutes.”

He left Hawkeye to watch her while he went to do his own search… or something.  Darcy didn’t know what the hell he was doing except that it wasn’t talking to her.  Or kissing her.  Or asking her out.

Or anything.

Darcy kicked the downed HYDRA douchebag in the gut.  He moaned weakly, but didn’t stand.

Stupid moment killing Nazi people…

**

The fourth time was at the beach.

It was Tony’s private beach off the coast of Malibu, not open to the public and under tight security so that no self-serving paparazzi jackals could come sniffing around for photos of Natasha in a bikini.  Steve had only been here once before, and he’d honestly found it kind of boring.  He’d never much liked the ocean.  Call it residual fears from back when he was too sickly to swim, but any body of water deeper than five feet made him nervous unless he had something else on his mind.

Jumping into the bay to catch a HYDRA spy?  He could do that.

Dropping out of a plane to infiltrate a hijacked ship?  No problem.

Go swimming just for the hell of it?  Maybe he should’ve stayed at the beach house.  Catch up on his reading or get some sleep.

He stayed mostly because of Bucky.  It was his first big vacation since his rehabilitation.  Knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone else around meant that he was comfortable enough to strip down to a swim suit and leave his metal arm uncovered.  His hair was back in a messy bun, with only a few strands loose to blow in the wind.  Steve couldn’t really tell (if HYDRA had done anything at all, they had improved Bucky’s poker face by a wide margin), but he seemed to be having fun.  He had definitely enjoyed himself the night before at dinner, chatting up Dr. Foster and gorging himself on crab legs.

“You going swimming?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged.  “Not in the mood.  Maybe later.”

Steve looked out at the wide expanse of ocean.  A colony of seagulls flew overhead, crying out over the crash of the waves.  Apparently, some people found this sort of thing relaxing.  Steve couldn’t say he agreed.

“It’s nice out here,” he said.

Bucky hummed, which would have been the only answer Steve received, except then something to the left caught his eye, and his face lit up.

“Beautiful,” he said.

Steve looked.  He then looked away.

Dr. Foster and Darcy walked side by side onto the beach, carrying a cooler between them.  The doctor looked quite attractive in her blue one piece and sarong, but it was Darcy in her black bikini that fried Steve’s brain and gave him thoughts that… well, if his mother was alive to know, she’d box him on the ears and send him to his room. 

The two of them were getting closer.  Steve’s extra sensitive ears could hear them from a mile away, and when it became clear that they were slowing down and would not just walk past them like he hoped they would…

“Hey guys,” said Dr. Foster, and though objectively, she spoke to them both, she had her sights set firmly on Bucky.  “Having fun?”

“I’m having a great time now,” Bucky said.  He started to get up.  “Need some help with that?”

“No, we’re fine,” said Darcy, at the exact same time that Jane answered: “We do, thanks.”

“No problem.”  Bucky took the cooler from them, easily lifting it onto his shoulder.  Dr. Foster, her cheeks pink, directed him to a spot farther away from shore. 

That left Steve alone with Darcy. 

Darcy in that damn black bikini that he really shouldn’t be staring at or he was going to embarrass himself.

“So what are you doing today?” she asked, and where Steve didn’t know where to put his eyes, she seemed to have no trouble staring at him.  “Other than showing off your killer abs, I mean.”

“Is that a compliment?” he asked.

“It’s sure not an insult.”  She reached over to grab a drink from their cooler, her breasts just inches away from his face. 

Steve gulped.

“If you’re not doing anything, you should come play beach volleyball with me,” she said.

“Beach volleyball?”

“Yeah, Stark and Pepper are playing over by the snack stand, but Stark made it couples only because he’s an ass.  Seeing as I’m currently down one boyfriend, I was hoping you’d stand in.”

“And you’re also hoping I can beat Tony for you,” Steve said, filling in the blanks.

“That hadn’t occurred to me,” Darcy said unconvincingly, “but now that you mention it, your spikes have got to be unreal.”

A whistle blew in the distance.  Darcy swore and stood up, pulling Steve by the arm until he consented to go with her.

“Come on, Handsome,” she said.  “Winner gets first dibs at the buffet tonight.”

The volleyball court was already set up when they got there, Tony and Pepper tossing the ball back and forth as they awaited their next opponents.  Clint and Natasha were on the sidelines with Bucky and Dr. Foster.  The former pair appeared sullen, shooting dirty looks at Tony whenever he threw the ball their way.

“Maybe you’ll catch it this time,” he yelled, and for once, not even a death glare from Black Widow could stop him.

“I guess there’s at least one thing the dynamic spysassin duo can’t do,” said Darcy.

“Those two are cheaters,” Clint shouted.  “No way would they’ve won a fair game.”

“If you could get them for us, Steve?” Natasha asked.

Tony and Pepper shared positively evil looks and high fived each other.

“You guys are just jealous that Pep and I kill it at beach volleyball,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.  “We always have.  Ask anyone.”

“Well, this time, Stark, you are going down!”

Darcy gave a whoop and jumped, making a show of warming up for the game.  That would have been fine on its own without the addition of her breasts bouncing up and down in his peripheral vision.  Forget about sending him to his room.  His mother would’ve entered him into priesthood by now.

It was so bad that Steve blatantly missed the first two balls sent his way.  One of them just barely grazed his shoulder while he was in a daze over one of the straps of Darcy’s bikini top slipping.  Though she corrected it fast and without a conscious thought, the image stayed with him, branded in his mind’s eye with all sorts of traitorous imaginings of the whole top coming off, or Darcy laid out on his bed with only a blanket and her long thick hair protecting her modesty, beckoning him to join her-

“Look out!”

Steve’s vision went black as the ball collided with his head.  He staggered, keeping his balance as the pain throbbed in his skull and his sight returned.  Though blurry for a moment, everything quickly came back into focus.  He felt sturdy hands on his shoulders, and then Bucky was pushing him down to examine his head.

“I don’t see blood,” he said frantically.  “Steve, are you bleeding?  Can you hear me?  How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Barnes, quit being the Mom Friend for two seconds, wouldja?”  Darcy forced her way between them, no small feat considering she had Bucky and his metal arm to contend with.  “He’s fine.  Look, he’s already back on his feet.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!  Stark spiked that ball right in his face.  He could have a concussion for all we know.”

“Buck, it’s fine,” Steve said, pulling out of Bucky’s iron grip.  “She’s right, it didn’t hurt that much.  I’m okay now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jane, could you please get soldier boy back under control?”

Dr. Foster rolled her eyes at her friend’s tone, but led Bucky away all the same.  He didn’t fight against her, no doubt unwilling to cause even the slightest harm to the petite woman, but watched Tony carefully hence forth.  If he happened to have a gun hidden somewhere in his swim trunks, Steve would not be surprised. 

“Hope you’re really okay over there, Cap,” Tony shouted.  “Because I’m not about to start going easy on you.”

Steve focused all his energy on Tony, with the ball in his hands.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The next time Tony served, Steve was on it.  He’d never played a single game of volleyball in his life, but he was a fast learner.  He slammed the ball back over the net.  It sailed fifty feet in the air and landed in the water, as half a dozen eyes followed its progress.

“Holy shit,” Clint gasped.  “So that’s what a super soldier can do.”

“Okay, new score is five points, team Tony/Pepper, and one point, team Steve/Darcy,” said Natasha with a grin.  “Let’s even that out a bit, shall we?”

“We shall,” Darcy said, looking moments away from leaping into Steve’s arms and kissing the life out of him.

 _‘Save it for later, Rogers.’_ He caught the new ball tossed by Clint, psyching himself up to serve it. 

Natasha blew the whistle, and Steve smacked the ball with (almost) everything he had, sending it zooming right past a gobsmacked Tony’s head.

Two points for Team Steve/Darcy.

After three more serves, the score was all tied up.  Natasha added one more tick to Steve and Darcy’s side of the scoreboard.  She winked at Tony, who gave her the stink eye right back.  His team had the ball, and it was Pepper’s turn to serve.  Her eyes were hard with determination. 

“Let’s see you block this one, Cap,” she said.

Darcy clapped her hands together and crouched down.  “Bring it on, sister.  You guys are about to get America’d right in the face!”

Of course, Steve wouldn’t aim for any faces—okay maybe Tony’s if he didn’t stop grinning like that—but as he met Darcy’s eyes from across their side of the net, she gave him a wink that was the very definition of ‘flirty’, and he would’ve done anything just so she would always look at him like that.

When Pepper served the ball, Steve was right on top of it.  He might’ve been a little too fast, but with Darcy’s smiling face in his head, adrenaline coursed through him.  He leaped into the air to intercept the ball.  Pepper’s serves were deadly, but Steve was still the super soldier here.  As the ball crossed over the net, Steve’s open palm slammed into it.  The ball flew back the way it came, losing air as it went from the hope ripped out of one side.  It fell limp and useless a foot outside the boundary lines, but Steve only saw it for half a second before the net snapped off both poles and wrapped around his torso.  He landed hard in the sand, his body tangled in the net. 

He worked himself free to the sound of Darcy and Dr. Foster cheering, and Tony arguing heatedly with Clint over whether or not the play was legal.

“He hit the net!”  Tony shouted.  “He completely trashed it.  That’s got to meant it doesn’t count.”

“The ball hit the ground before he hit the net,” Clint shot back.  “Now quit being a sore loser, wouldja?”

“You have to _lose_ to be a sore loser, Birdbrain!”

Steve tuned them out, not really caring anymore if it counted as a point or if his team and Tony’s team would have to settle for a tie.  With Darcy jumping into his arms and letting out a sound of pure exuberance, it was hard to care about anything else.

Especially not when she grabbed him by the face, half-mad with joy, and crashed their lips together.

She felt warm against him.  Warm and soft, and her lips were hot and demanding in a way no woman had ever been with him.

Granted, he’d only kissed three woman before Darcy, and only one of them he’d actually wanted to kiss.  Where the first and third times had been cold and mechanical, and the second time with Peggy had been fast and heated, this was almost… playful.  Darcy kissed him with intense fervor, but he never felt like it was an ending.  This was not a desperate attempt to hold onto a moment while they could, this was just Steve and Darcy on the beach, playing beach volleyball.  Nothing was at risk here.  It was just another day.

Steve didn’t even know if he should kiss back.

He should, right?

Yes, of course he should.  What kind of a stupid question was that?  If Bucky could hear this, he’d whack him upside the head for being such an idiot.

And then he’d whack him again for taking all that time to think it over, so that Darcy froze and pulled away.  She choked on her words and fell to the side, scrambling to put some distance between them.  Steve stared after her, his body not yet obeying his commands to move.  The kiss had ended as abruptly as it started, and Steve was pretty sure his brain was mush from trying to process it.

“Uh…” Darcy said.  She glanced all around, and Steve didn’t have to wonder what she was looking at.  Not when the whole beach had gone deathly silent, with only the sounds of waves and seagulls remaining.  Which meant he wasn’t imagining all the eyes on them. 

“Good game,” he said stiffly. 

“Yeah,” she said, biting down on her lip.  “Real good… I knew I made the right choice picking you for my partner.”

“I’m glad I could help.”  Steve dug his feet into the sand, his fingers curling around air in search of something solid to hold.  Everyone was still watching them.  “I hope you enjoy the buffet tonight.”

“Yeah, you too,” Darcy said.  She rolled her shoulders and spun around.  “I’m gonna go swim… or something.”

She all but ran, not towards the ocean, but to the parking lot.  Steve stared after her, her curls bouncing in the wind over her shoulders.  He swallowed back a sigh and went to replace the volleyball net with a muttered apology to Tony for wrecking it.

He missed Darcy turning around to watch him from afar before continuing the long walk back to her car.  Just like he missed Dr. Foster and Bucky’s shared glances that held all the meaning of a spoken conversation.

**

The fifth time, they discovered that Tony’s private beach wasn’t as secure as they had hoped.

Darcy awoke in her room on the upper floor of her and Jane’s shared apartment.  With Jane on the lower level, it was easy for them to work around each other during the day and have time to themselves at night.  Darcy at this point was less an intern and more a paid employee, so she worked a set schedule doing filing and arranging Jane’s meetings with ‘Insert big important scientist slash government agent of the week Here’, all while making sure Jane’s coffee mug stayed full and a proper meal went down her gullet three times a day.

That morning, a week after what had been affectionately dubbed the Beach Volleyball incident, Darcy went about her normal routine of setting a fresh cup of coffee and a toasted egg salad sandwich next to Jane’s laptop, followed by answering that e-mail from Professor Whatshisname of the University of Stuff and Things.  After that was a quick shower and getting dressed before gobbling down some waffles slathered in syrup, and with the sugar rush coursing through Darcy’s veins, she was ready to start the day.

Her first official task?  Restocking the cupboard with pop tarts and Jane’s favorite French roast coffee.

It was lovely knowing that Bachelor’s Degree had been worth it.

Stepping out onto the street, it was common to find at least one moron with a flash bulb sneaking around, but not something Darcy actively thought about.  Why would she?  She was never on their list of targets.  She wasn’t a big muscly hero or a sexy spy in a slinky catsuit.  Any other day, she would slide right passed their eyes just like any other civilian with an average 9 to 5 job would. 

Not today.

Today, the first thing Darcy heard upon leaving the tower was an eager cry of, “There she is.”  And then the flashes went off. 

Darcy yelped and covered her eyes.  A mob of men and women armed with cameras and microphones descended upon her like a swarm of hungry animals, shouting words she couldn’t understand mixed in with the constant clicking of a hundred cameras.  Darcy sunk against the wall, curling up into a ball.  Her one exposed ear perked up at the sound of a name she knew very well. 

“Ms. Lewis, can you tell us the nature of your relationship with Steve Rogers?”

“Ms. Lewis, over here!  Is it true that you’ve been engaged in an affair with Captain America?”

“Do you have any comments on the allegation that you are pregnant with his child?”

“Ms. Lewis, look this way!”

“Right here, Ms. Lewis!”

“Ms. Lewis!”

An opening appeared between a glamorous TV reporter with newly coifed hair and her bearded cameraman.  Darcy shot through it like a rocket, running as fast as her legs could carry her to the end of the street.  Their voices followed, shouting the same questions on a continuous loop, until suddenly, all the voices died off.  It was not total silence, never would be in the city of Manhattan, but in the absence of their screaming, Darcy got up the courage to turn around. 

The entire crowd of reporters was stopped in front of a man who had his arms folded; a man Darcy would know anywhere, even with his back to her and his metal limb hidden from view.

“You guys are going to have to leave now,” Bucky said.  “You’re trespassing on private property.”

“Hey man, who the hell do you think you are?” shouted one incredibly stupid man with a camera who apparently didn’t value his life.

Bucky turned on him, getting one step closer so that he could lean forward and give him a look that Darcy couldn’t see, but must have been terrifying if the man’s puce colored face and fearful whimpering meant anything. 

“I’m only going to ask you one more time to leave peacefully.  There is nothing for you to see here.”

“The pictures say different, sir,” said the glamorous reporter.  “We all know there’s a story here, and we have every right to find out what it is.”

“Okay, Ma’am, I’ve got a story for you.” 

Bucky nodded to his left, and Darcy now saw that Jane was standing there.  She pressed the secret button next to the revolving doors that set off the alarm.  That thing could be heard from ten miles away, and while the reporters were reeling from the high pitched wail, Jane shot a look Darcy’s way, mouthing a single word, ‘Go!’

Darcy didn’t need telling twice.

She was three blocks away, standing in front of a mostly empty bar with a line of TVs overhead, by the time her legs and throat were burning too much to take another step.  No one was coming at her from either direction, aside from the usual stream of indifferent New Yorkers.  None of them had a camera, so Darcy would take it. 

With a long and much needed sigh, Darcy pressed her head into the glass.  It was warm from the sun, and as her breath fogged up the glass, her eyes were drawn to the glowing light of the televisions.  Most of them, as one would expect, were turned in to some sporting event; a football game here, basketball there.  The only two patrons were watching the biggest TV in the center, and this one was on a news station.

Darcy’s heart stopped.

There it was, right there on the screen.  Her and Steve at the beach, on the volleyball court.  Her arms were around him— they must have caught her at the very moment she grabbed him.  From this angle, they could never have seen the camera, not with Darcy so busy trying to eat Steve’s face off.  The caption under the photo screamed it out in big, bold letters.

NEW LOVE FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA?

The picture faded out, and the talking heads returned.  Whatever they were saying could not penetrate the thick glass, but it didn’t have to.  As the old saying goes, a picture’s worth a thousand words.

“Oh my god.”  Darcy sunk down to her knees.  “I don’t believe it.  How could this have happened?”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

She almost jumped out of her skin.  She did start to run away before it registered that she knew that voice.  By then, his hand was around her wrist, not pulling, but holding her in place. 

“You don’t want to go that way,” Steve said.  He wore a tired smile and there was a hint of sweat on his brow, which begged the question of how far and how fast a super soldier had to run to break a sweat.  “I just came from that way, and I’m not sure if I was able to shake all of them.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow.  “ _You_ couldn’t outrun a group of reporters?”

“It’s harder when they’re in a van.”

Steve raised his head, his ear perked up.  Darcy had lived with superheroes long enough to know when they were on alert for threats.  After her little mishap with HYDRA, she’d started paying extra attention.  Just to keep busy, she checked her handbag for her taser, and then dug in deeper for the backup taser. 

“So what do we do now?”  She leaned back against the glass.  “I don’t think we can go back to the tower just yet.”

“It won’t take them too long to clear everyone out,” said Steve with a glance down at his watch.  “By the way, do you know who set off the alarm before?”

Darcy shook her head, ready to smack it against the wall until she fell into blissful unconsciousness.  First, she was itching for a very strong drink.

“Any chance you’re up for a beer?”  Inside the bar, the image on the TV had become that of an older woman Darcy vaguely recognized as a former grade school teacher.  The caption read, ‘FORMER INSTRUCTOR ALWAYS KNEW SHE’D GO FAR.’  “…at another bar.”

**

The sixth time, they found an aging tavern on the edge of Midtown.  It was even more sparsely occupied than the first one, and looked like it predated even Steve.  Though the exterior, with its fading paint and dusty windows, wasn’t promising, inside it was clean and smelled more of alcohol than of mold.  The bartender was a grumbly old man who rasped something unintelligible at Darcy’s drink order, but brought her exactly what she asked for in record time. 

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Darcy asked.  She and Steve had chosen a table in the far corner away from the lights, just in case.  “I’m buying.”

“Thanks, but I’m not really one for alcohol,” Steve said, shrugging.  “When you can’t get drunk, it kind of loses its appeal.”

“Suit yourself.”

Darcy cracked open her beer, drinking leisurely until a slight but pleasant buzz rang in her ears.  She relaxed, letting all her problems fade away under the haze of alcohol.  Not that she’d be able to make it all go away, not with Steve right in front of her, staring at her, probably wanting to talk about what they should do with her.

“So,” Darcy said, rubbing her eyes, “the world thinks we’re a couple.  That’s… something, right?”

Steve pursed his lips.  “Certainly not what I expected to wake up to this morning.”

Darcy put a hand to her head.  That buzz was becoming less enjoyable and more of a dull throb with every second.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about this,” she said.  “Like really, really sorry.”

“Why?” Steve asked, completely genuine.  “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it’s my fault.  I’m the one that kissed you.”  Darcy slammed her drink down on the table.  The bartender growled at her as he swept the floors, but said no more about it.  “I should’ve just… I don’t know.  A simple ‘good game’ should have sufficed.  A high five or a handshake or something other than making a fool out of myself.”

Her cell phone beeped in her pocket.  Darcy checked the call ID and then set it straight to voicemail.

“Who is it?” Steve asked.

“My mom,” Darcy said.  “She probably wants to either yell at me or demand that you marry me.”

Steve choked on nothing.  Now there was something she never expected from Captain America.  Looks like even super soldiers weren’t immune to nerves.  Darcy’s phone vibrated a second time, but it was a different number now.

“And that’s my dad,” Darcy said, sending him to voicemail as well.  “He’ll be asking where you live so he can take the shotgun to you.”

Steve laughed.  He must’ve thought she was kidding.  He should’ve seen what happened when her junior prom date tried to cop a feel.

In the next few minutes, Darcy’s mother called one more time, followed by her step-mother, her grandmother, and her Aunt Camilla, which was weird because Aunt Camilla was still deaf and blind last Darcy checked.  All of them went to voicemail, until Darcy’s mailbox was finally full.

“I cannot deal with them right now.”  Darcy rubbed her temples.  She had a second drink in front of her that she couldn’t even touch.  “Half of them never even call me, and now this.”

The next time the phone rang, Darcy wanted to scream, except it wasn’t her phone.  Steve hit accept without missing a beat, and spoke softly to the person on the other end for a good five minutes. 

“That was Agent Romanov,” he said after hanging up.  “The building and the surrounding area has been cleared of all news vans.  We’re free to head back whenever we’re ready.”

“What about tomorrow and the next day?  They could come back.”

“Tony’s PR team is working on it.  She said they’ll have the photo buried by the end of the week.”

He seemed pretty optimistic, which was damn good for him.  Darcy wished she could share in it.  She could use some good feelings right now, instead of an unholy mixture of rage, humiliation, and the most intense sexual frustration she had ever experienced.  The man she’d been dreaming about every night was right in front of her, and he looked amazing, and the whole world thought they were lovers in the nighttime, and this was in no way what Darcy signed up for when she took that stupid internship.

“Maui…” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

Darcy’s eyes flicked up over her brow.  “Nothing, just thinking about how I had the choice between taking a summer internship and going on a beach getaway with my friends in Maui, and I took the internship because I wanted the credits.  That’s how I ended up here, you know.”

“Then I’m glad you took the internship,” Steve said.  “If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have met.”

He shouldn’t say things like that if he didn’t want Darcy to melt into a puddle of person goo all over the place.  The bartender seemed to have a thing about keeping the floors clean.  He’d throw them out for sure.

“Even though I’ve just caused you a nightmare with the press?”

“Darcy, do you know how many times a week some woman tries to claim I fathered their child?  Compared to that, this is nothing.”

Darcy blinked.  “Yeah… that does sound a lot worse.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Steve said, shaking his head.  “I’ve never even done anything like that.”

“ _You’ve_ never had sex?  Now I have to call bullshit.”

“It’s the truth,” Steve said without a hint of shame.  “Never had the opportunity, and there was only one person before now I ever thought of that way.”

He looked wistful for a moment, and Darcy knew who he must be thinking about.  She wanted to ask, but for once, she listened to the voice in her head telling her that now wasn’t the time. 

“To be fair, my first and only time wasn’t that great,” Darcy said.  “In fact, it sucked.  Like, _really_ sucked.”

He flashed a smile, a very sweet and attractive smile that made Darcy forgive how obviously he wanted to laugh.

“I hope your next time is a lot better,” he said.

“And I hope your first time is, too.”

She picked up her drink, forgetting for a moment that he had nothing in front of him to make a toast with.  She drank anyway.

“So, how are we going to deal with this now?”  Darcy asked.  She closed her eyes, numbing the slight ache in her temples by shutting out the light.  “I mean, until Stark and his guys make this go away.  Are we just going to have to stay in the tower for a week?”

“I’ll probably have to leave for something before the week is out,” Steve said.  He gave Darcy a thoughtful look.  “Actually, I was thinking we should go about this a different way.”

“Such as?”

He leaned forward, and he smelled really good.  Unfairly good.

“I was wondering… I have been wondering for a while… I was hoping that you might want to have dinner with me sometime.”

Later on—like, literally seconds after it happened—Darcy would be kicking herself for how long it took her to respond.  It must have been a full minute of just staring at him, at his chiseled face and perfect hair and general Adonis-like appearance. 

“You… you’re asking me on a date?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the right way to phrase it.”

“You mean, like, at a restaurant?”

“Or a movie if you’d rather do that.”

“Together?”

“I… think that’s how a date is supposed to work.”

Darcy fell back against the chair, her lips parted in an ‘o’ shape.  She must’ve looked like the biggest ass clown.

“I… yeah, I’d love to go out with you… to dinner or a movie or whatever you want.”

As it turned out, Darcy’s initial assumption that his smile could not get any more radiant was grossly inaccurate. 

“If it’s what I want, then how about a walk around Central Park?”

He stood up, offering a hand like the chivalrous gentlemen Darcy chose to believe all forties guys had been (because if they weren’t, then Steve really was perfect).  She giggled.

“We’ll get spotted.”

“Nah,” he said.  “One of my best friends is a spy.  I’ve learned a thing or two about how to be unseen.”

They left the tavern to the grumbled goodbye of the bartender.  The sun was high in the sky, so Darcy lowered her head to shield her eyes.  A shadow fell over her, that of Steve switching sides to cover her from the blinding rays with his larger body. 

A true hero, he was.

“By the way,” Darcy said.  “What were you doing in front of that bar before?  You’re not stalking me are you?”

“Actually, Bucky asked me to pick up some protein shakes at the supermarket,” Steve explained.

“Hmmm…” Darcy fell deep into thought as the entrance to the park appeared around the corner.  “I was going to get something for Jane… you notice that we’ve been running into each other a lot because of those two?” 

“You think it’s not a coincidence?”

“I don’t know,” Darcy thought it over some more, and then, after a brief deliberation, shook her head.  “Nah, they’re not that devious.”

**

Steve and Darcy did not get home until late that night.  The sun had long since gone down by the time they stepped in through the secret back entrance.  Hand in hand, they shared a cheerful laugh as they walked in the direction of the elevators.  Anyone else around went unnoticed by them, as did the three figures standing in the shadows, watching the new couple intently.  The one in the middle let out a whistle.

“I’m impressed,” he said to his companions.  “Capsicle really did have the hots for the helper gnome after all.  Good going, guys.”

Behind him, Jane breathed a sigh of relief, leaning in the wall as Bucky stood beside her.

“So glad it finally worked out,” she said.  “I was afraid they’d realize what we were doing first.”

“I guess we have to thank those nosy reporters for something,” Bucky said, his nose crinkling as if from a bad smell.

“I can tell you firsthand, those people do have their uses.”  Tony grinned to himself.  “How many times did you guys try that whole ‘make them meet up somewhere’ trick anyway?”

“Around three,” Jane said.  “Maybe four.  It never seemed to go the way we hoped it would.”

“Punk was either too stubborn or those HYDRA bastards came around,” Bucky muttered.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that now,” Tony said.  If he leaned just right, he could catch a glimpse of Steve and Darcy’s rather long goodnight kiss.  It was going on for fifteen seconds and counting.  “I have to admit, though, it’s not really a matchup I would’ve expected.  It’s honestly kind of unusual.”

“It’s not that weird, Tony,” Jane said.  “Trust me when I say, weirder things can happen, right James?”

“Right, baby.”

Jane jumped into Bucky’s arms as the two shared a kiss that put Steve and Darcy’s to shame, and made Tony cough out a hasty goodbye and quietly leave the room.


End file.
